


Life Lines

by carolinecrane



Series: down is where we came from [41]
Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-10
Updated: 2010-12-10
Packaged: 2017-10-13 14:54:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/138583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carolinecrane/pseuds/carolinecrane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Breakfast is the most important meal of the day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Life Lines

It’s way past 8:00 when Finn leaves Will’s place and points his truck toward home. His plan was to get back sometime before 8:00 and hope his mom slept in a little, but by the time he pulls into the driveway it’s almost 9:00.

And yeah, okay, if he’d gotten out of Will’s bed and come home when he woke up, his plan would have worked just fine. Only that would have meant...well, getting out of Will’s bed, and when he woke to the sight of Will naked and stretched across the mattress, there was no way he could just _leave_.

He pictures the way Will looked, all muscle and pale, perfect skin, remembers the way Will reacted to his touch, even in his sleep. The way his muscles rippled under Finn’s hand when he flattened his palm against Will’s stomach, and the way his dick stirred when Finn let his hand trail further down.

He pictures easing Will’s legs further apart and settling between them, sucking him to full attention and by the time Will opened his eyes and looked down, he was already rocking up into Finn’s mouth. And Finn’s never minded waking up that way -- not that it’s happened more than once or twice -- so he figured Will wouldn’t either. He asked anyway, just to be sure, or maybe just to hear Will say out loud how much he wants Finn.

He breathes in deep and runs a hand over his face, willing away a blush and sending up a quick prayer that he can at least make it to the shower before his mom gets her hands on him and smells Will all over him.

He’s halfway up the walk when the front door opens, and Finn’s stomach drops. But it’s not his mom leaning out the door to watch his own personal walk of shame; it’s Puck, and Finn’s not sure that’s all that much better.

“Heads up, dude," Puck says, pulling the door closed behind him and wrapping his arms around his chest. “Fuck, it’s cold out here.”

Finn bites back the urge to tell Puck that L.A.’s turning him into kind of a pussy. He’s still not as bad as Kurt, and anyway Finn’s too busy wondering what’s so important that Puck’s been waiting by the door for him to worry about the temperature.

“So listen,” Puck says, then he glances over his shoulder like he’s worried maybe someone’s going to catch them. “Your mom knows about your booty call, so don’t try to bullshit her about it. And before you say it, she heard you leaving, so Kurt didn’t blow your cover or anything.”

A dozen different questions race through Finn’s mind at once, like how Puck knows what his mom knows, and why Puck thinks Finn would blame Kurt. He thinks about asking why they even have to have this conversation, considering he stopped being sixteen a long time ago, but he’s the one who didn’t tell his mom he was spending the night with Will, so that part’s on him too.

Instead Finn just says, “Oh. Is she pissed?"

“Nah,” Puck answers. He’s kind of stamping his feet now, and it’s pretty pathetic how soft he’s gotten, living out in L.A., but it’s cool of him to have Finn’s back this way even though they haven't been friends for a few years now. “She was freaking out a little that Schue’s corrupting you or whatever, but I talked her down.”

“You talked to my mom about me and Will,” Finn says, heat creeping up his neck in spite of the cold, and yeah, that’s definitely worse than his mom catching him trying to sneak back into the house smelling like sex.

“That’s what I just said,” Puck answers, one eyebrow raised in an expression Finn hasn’t seen in a long time.

“Thanks, I guess,” Finn says, because Puck probably meant well, even if his mom’s, like, scarred for life now. “Listen, I’m gonna grab a shower quick.”

“Good plan. No point rubbing it in her face.” He looks Finn over, a slow smirk spreading across his face, and Finn hasn’t seen that look in awhile either. “So is Schue as buttoned up and uptight in the sack as he is in real life or what?”

Finn feels his whole face blush hot and red, and it’s pretty obvious when Puck laughs that he doesn’t miss it. He doesn’t want to have this conversation, doesn’t want to know why Puck’s been wondering what his boyfriend’s like in bed or considering just how uptight -- and he’s _not_ , he’s just...careful -- Will can be.

“Why? You’re not about to offer me some kind of creepy four-way, are you?”

“Dude,” Puck says, like it’s a stupid question. And maybe it is, but there was a time it wouldn’t have been, and they haven’t exactly been tight since those days.

“Even if Kurt would go for that, which you know he wouldn’t, I messed around enough when we were in school. I know when I’ve got a good thing going, and I’m not planning to fuck it up.” Puck shrugs and glances over his shoulder again, wraps his arms a little tighter around himself and turns back to Finn to grin at him. “I just always kinda wondered if Schue would be all ‘lights off, missionary style’, or if he’d be kind of a freak in the sack. A dude who owns that many vests has to let loose someplace, you know?”

And now Finn’s blushing even harder, mostly because Puck...well, he kind of has a point. If Finn had let himself think about sex and guys in general back in high school, he might have found himself wondering at some point if Schue’s tastes in the bedroom were anything like his taste in music, or if he was a little more willing to work outside the box when it came to sex.

“He’s not a prude or anything,” Finn says, blushing all over again because seriously, he can’t believe he’s having this conversation with Puck on Christmas morning when he kind of reeks of sex and Will Schuester. “I don’t know, man. It’s only been a few days, I haven’t even had time to find out if he’s into anything freaky.”

“You know if he wants to do anything _too_ freaky you can say no, right?” Puck asks, and it’s weird, how fast he goes from smirking to dead serious. “I think you could probably still kick his ass if you had to.”

“Dude, I’ve had sex before. I know how it works,” Finn says, and he has no idea when Puck became, like, his _dad_ , but it’s starting to mess with his head.

“Yeah, but Schue’s older, dude. Sometimes with older dudes things can get kind of dicey. I’m just saying.”

And he doesn’t want to know, he really doesn’t. He’s glad Kurt’s happy and all, but he’s also kind of glad he wasn’t in touch with Puck all that time he was finding himself or whatever.

“Will’s not like that. Will’s...” He trails off, trying to find the words to say ‘Will’s awesome’ in a way that will make sense to Puck. “Back in high school, he was the first person I told when I found out Quinn was pregnant. Before you, even. I mean, when I thought it was my kid.”

He pauses when he remembers whose kid it actually _is_ , but Puck doesn’t look like he’s going to cry or punch him for bringing up his daughter or anything. And it’s not like he’s trying to dredge up ancient history and ruin anybody’s Christmas, but he’s trying to make a point here. So when Puck just looks at him like he’s waiting for Finn to spit out whatever he’s trying to say, Finn nods and keeps talking.

“Anyway, when I found out I was totally freaked out, and I knew I couldn’t go to my mom. So I went to Schue. I don’t even know why. I hadn’t even been in Glee all that long then, so it wasn’t like I knew him all that well, at least not outside of Spanish class. But when I found him, I just started crying, and I couldn’t stop. And you know what he did? He hugged me. Like, _held me_ while I cried about it. Then he took me out for dinner.”

“So wait, you’re telling me you went on your first date with Schue back in _high school_ and you’re just getting around to boning him now? Dude, that’s weak, even for you.”

Finn laughs, because it's kind of true. And he knows it wasn’t a date; it was just Will being...awesome. Knowing what Finn needed and being there for him. Not in a dad way or even a teacher way, because if it was a teacher thing or a dad thing, he would have spent dinner trying to convince Finn to talk to his mom. If he’d given Finn the ‘your mom loves you and she’ll understand’ speech, Finn might have even thought of Will like a stand-in dad or whatever the way everyone thought he did.

But mostly Will just let him talk, and he let Finn know he was there to listen. Like a friend.

And even though it’s ancient history and it definitely wasn’t a date -- no matter what dumb jokes Puck makes -- that dinner probably set the ground work for what’s happening with them now. That was when Finn started thinking of Will as more of a friend than a teacher, anyway, and that’s the only reason he felt okay about looking Will up after graduation.

“Whatever, dude. Kurt told me the only reason you two hooked up was because Brittany randomly spotted you and thought you were your own stunt double or something. If it hadn’t been for her, Kurt would have been the one that got away, and you never even would have known it.”

For a second after he says it Puck kind of frowns, like maybe he’s never really stopped to think about how totally random hooking up with Kurt really was. And Finn’s _really_ not trying to ruin anybody’s Christmas here, so he sort of regrets even mentioning it. But before he has a chance to try to take it back Puck’s grinning and reaching for the door.

“Yeah, well, Kurt might not believe in God, but I do. Divine intervention, dude. We were totally made for each other, why else would we both have ended up in L.A.?"

Finn’s not all that sure he believes Puck and Kurt were meant for each other or whatever, but he doesn’t argue. Instead he follows Puck into the house, then he nods a quick ‘thanks’ and ducks into the basement before either of his parents wanders out to see who’s at the door.

It’s quiet downstairs, and he knows he should hurry, because it’s already late and his whole family’s up there waiting around for him to show up so they can eat and unwrap presents. He pauses for a minute anyway, closing his eyes and remembering the look on Will’s face when he said _you’re here_ , like waking up to find Finn still in his bed was some kind of miracle or something.

Finn laughs and shakes his head, then he opens his eyes and grabs some clean clothes. There’s nothing miraculous about him wanting to be wherever Will is; he’s kind of always wanted to be where Will is, even back when they were just friends.

He takes the fastest shower he can while his mind keeps wandering to Will’s hands and his mouth and his smile, to the sound of Will’s voice murmuring his name and gasping when Finn stretches his mouth around his cock. So okay, maybe he spends a little more time in the shower than he really needs, and by the end he has to turn the water all the way to cold.

Once he’s got his dick back under control he dries off and gets dressed, checks the mirror to make sure he’s not blushing and heads upstairs. When he walks into the kitchen Puck’s sitting at the table shoveling food in his mouth, and when he hears Finn come in he looks up long enough to nod before he goes right back to eating.

“Sit,” Kurt says from across the room, and Finn glances over in time to watch him pull a plate out of the cabinet and start piling food onto it.

“Thanks,” Finn says when Kurt sets the plate down in front of him. He’s not sure what it is, but it looks like some kind of casserole. There’s cheese and he thinks sausage, and what looks like chunks of bread. “What is this?”

“Strata,” Puck says around a mouthful.

"What's a strata?”

“No idea,” Puck answers, “but it’s fucking awesome.”

A cup of coffee appears in front of Finn next, and he looks up to tell Kurt that he doesn’t have to wait on him, but before he gets the words out the door opens and his mom walks into the kitchen. He feels himself tense and he knows it’s stupid, because it’s not like she’s going to yell at him for staying out all night or anything. But she’s probably going to give him that disappointed face, the one that makes him feel like he’s letting her down just by being himself for maybe the first time in his life.

And for a second that sad expression flickers in her eyes, but then she blinks and smiles at all three of them. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” Finn murmurs kind of absently as she crosses the room to brush a kiss across his cheek. Then she straightens up and heads for the coffee pot like she has no idea what Finn spent the night doing and exactly who he was doing it with.

“Kurt, breakfast smells amazing,” she says, reaching for the Santa mug and pouring herself a cup of coffee.

“It is,” Puck says, and when Finn glances at him Puck’s staring back across the table with a totally smug expression. “Kurt’s an awesome cook.”

“There’s really nothing to strata,” Kurt says, but his cheeks are pink and he’s wearing that pleased little smile he always gets when Burt starts bragging about how awesome he is at fixing cars, so it’s obvious he’s digging the attention.

His mom smiles and sets the coffee pot down, then she heads back to the table and takes the seat next to Finn. He picks up his fork and pushes his food around on his plate a little, stealing glances at her every few seconds. She’s just sitting there sipping her coffee and listening to Kurt talk about his secret strata recipe or whatever, but the next time Finn glances over at her she reaches out and pats his arm where it’s resting on the table.

He can feel the heat from her coffee mug through his sleeve, and when he looks up and finds her smiling at him in that way she always does whenever the subject of his dad comes up, his throat starts to close up. Then she lets go of his arm so Kurt can set a plate down in front of her, and Finn swallows hard and reaches for his own coffee.

“Eat your breakfast before it gets cold,” Kurt says, smacking Finn’s shoulder on his way by. Finn blushes and picks up his fork, and he doesn’t look across the table to see Puck’s smug expression. Instead he takes a bite of strata and chews thoughtfully for a minute or two before he decides that Puck’s right about at least one thing: the strata’s fucking awesome.


End file.
